


There

by shades_0f_cool



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Canon Compliant, Feels, First Kiss, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, Hurt Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Naked Cuddling, Non-Graphic Violence, Pining Eren Yeager, Sharing Body Heat, Sharing a Bed, Young Eren Yeager
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 10:56:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17865950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shades_0f_cool/pseuds/shades_0f_cool
Summary: He wants to get to Levi, wants to break down his walls, strip him of his defenses. He wants him wide open, bare and touchable.





	There

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KaikaKaze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaikaKaze/gifts).



> This is my contribution to my Valentine's Day gift exchange with Din, since we missed entering ereri-events' one over on tumblr on time ;_; so, belated happy Valentine's Day to my love buddy all year round. Hab dich lieb, Süße. <3

     It’s supposed to be him.

     It _should_ have been him.

     But that’s just Eren’s deal, isn’t it? Story of his life, really—people taking the fall, getting hurt, sacrificing themselves, all because of Eren. _For_ Eren. He knows it’s all part of the plan. He knows he’s too important to lose, that he might be the only one left standing between humanity and a world without it, that he matters. That’s what everyone keeps telling him, and yes, he hears them. He listens, and sometimes he understands. What he doesn’t understand is how he’s supposed to accept that every single person around him is willing to die for him without batting an eye if need be. He wishes he wouldn’t have to be _this_ —this perpetual burden that needs to be saved and protected—because if he wasn’t, none of this would have happened.

     This, meaning Levi getting hurt because— _surprise_ —he had to step up to save Eren’s ass when he’d thought he could take on a twelve-meter class on his own. Yeah, no. Turns out he couldn’t, and now he has one hell of a guilty conscience and an injured Captain to show for it.

     Levi’s trying to put up a brave front, but Eren knows he’s barely hanging on. He can tell from the way he’s shaking against Eren’s chest, from the way he’s suppressing his groans when he speaks.

     Eren wants to slap himself for being reckless _again,_ for putting himself in a position he couldn’t handle, not without Levi putting his life on the line for his sake. Shit, _so stupid._ He’s so stupid, and he wishes there was a way  he could punish himself for fucking up again. But there’s no time for dwelling on that right now, because Levi’s hurting and they’re on the run, in search of shelter in form of a tiny cabin in the woods Levi’s sure is around here somewhere. If nothing else, Eren has to at least get Levi there, make sure he’s as safe as he can be. He’ll deal with anything else later.

     Levi shivers where he’s tucked into Eren’s chest. They’re on horseback, since Eren’s gear broke during the attack and Levi is too injured to use his.

     Eren’s arms are wrapped around Levi already, but he can’t help holding him a little tighter.

     “Stay with me,” he whispers into Levi’s cloak. It’s soaked with snow.

     Levi snorts, which immediately tapers off into a groan. “I’m sure as hell not going to die out here in the sticks.”

     It’s Levi’s way of giving comfort, and Eren couldn’t be more grateful for it. He closes his eyes briefly, inhaling Levi’s scent, trying to block out the slivers of blood tinging it.

     Fuck. Being as familiar with the way Levi smells as he is, Eren can tell that the blood in his scent is much more pronounced now than it was ten minutes ago when they passed the clearing. It’s been a long time since Eren’s prayed for anything, but he’s praying now; now that Levi’s in his arms and his blood is soaking the cuffs of Eren’s shirt.

_Please. Don’t take him away from me._

     “Hold on, Levi,” Eren says. “We’re almost there.”

     He doesn’t get an answer this time, just a soft hum, and Eren fights down the oncoming of another panic attack, the third in what? An hour?

     If at all possible, the storm has picked up in intensity, the thick snowflakes whipped in their faces by an ice-cold wind that’s exacerbated by the darkness that’s rolling in dangerously fast now. That damn freak storm. Things could have been different—they _would_ have been different—if the storm hadn’t decided to break out of nowhere, taking a titan ambush along with it and separating Eren and Levi from the rest of their squad.

     Eren urges the mare faster, apologizing silently, because he’s pushing her well beyond her limits. But he has to, if they want a shot at making it out of this alive.

     They reach the thicker part of the forest, where there are low branches whipping in their faces and pulling at their clothes along with the biting wind and wet snow.

     And then, finally, it catches Eren’s eye. The cabin Levi talked about. It’s a little thing, old and deserted and more of a ruin than an actual cabin. It’s heaven.

     “Thank god,” Eren breathes.

     There’s a small stable at the back of the cabin, whose roof is miraculously still intact. Eren guides Levi’s mare towards the back, where the air is . . . okay, maybe not warm per se, but at least warmer than outside. It’s when Eren crosses the line from cold and dangerous to dry and relatively safe that exhaustion hits him like a ton of bricks. He doesn’t remember how long he’s been awake at this point. Leaving Trost on horseback in the morning seems like a lifetime ago. Then there was the storm and fighting, all but blind in the wind and snow, Eren almost dying, Levi saving him and getting hurt in the process . . . all Eren wants is to take a moment to catch his breath, but he’s far from being able to kick his feet up. Which brings him to his next challenge: getting Levi off his horse and inside the cabin to patch him up. That is _if_ he can patch him up because the cuts criss-crossing over his chest look fucking awful and his eyes are closed and he’s—wait, he _is_ breathing, isn’t he?

     “Levi?” Eren whispers.

     His voice is breaking and there are tears in his eyes, but he doesn’t care. Contrary to popular belief, he’s not weak. But he’s weak when it comes to Levi.

     “Levi, hey,” he continues, pulling Levi back against him so that his nose is buried into the crook of Eren’s neck. “We made it.”

     Levi doesn’t answer, not that Eren would have been able to understand a word with how loud the blood is rushing in his ears, but he stares long enough to catch Levi’s eyelids fluttering. Oh god, how Eren wishes the circumstances were different, because in any other given scenario, he’d have loved to watch those thick black lashes dance over pale skin. He’d have loved to run his thumbs over those ridiculously gorgeous cheekbones and watch while Levi slowly comes to, his cool toes searching Eren’s beneath the blanket, small hands fumbling for bare skin. Eren would commit every tiny little detail to memory, from the way Levi snuggles into his chest—because in his imagination, Levi's one hell of a cuddler—and the soft sighs he makes, to how his inky black hair looks spread out on milk-white linens. It’s a beautiful dream, one that’s helped Eren through so, so many sleepless nights filled with nightmares and shivers and sweat. One that will never come true, but that’s okay. It’s fine, because he can always dream. If nothing else, he’ll always have that.

     And this is most definitely _not_ the time to relive his favorite daydream, not even with the excuse of possibly losing Levi tonight at the ready. It won’t happen, _can’t_ happen. Eren will make sure of it. It’s up to him. It’s his turn to save Levi for a change.

     “I’m going to lift you down, okay?” Eren asks, not sure if Levi can hear him, but wanting him to know anyway.

     It could be a figment of his imagination, but he thinks he hears a small groan from Levi, and it should be scary how high a tiny, probably not-even-there sound makes his damn heart soar.

     “Okay, on three,” Eren says, wrapping his arms carefully around Levi’s middle, just below the cuts across his chest. He does his best to be as gentle as possible, but even with that, this is going to hurt. “One, two . . . three.”

     Levi hisses in pain when Eren’s grip around him tightens, and then groans when he pulls him from horseback into his arms. Eren almost starts crying right there in the stable when he spots a trail of tears making its way through the dirt on Levi’s face. Never has Eren seen the Captain cry before, not once. He doesn’t do crying, especially not in front of his comrades. But he’s crying now, while Eren is holding him in his arms and carrying him into the safety of the cabin, and Eren would be lying if he said witnessing it doesn’t turn his world on its axis.

     Eren sighs in relief when he kicks the cabin door shut with his foot and heads for the small bed in the middle of the room. The sheets are a little—or _a lot_ —dusty, and Levi would kill him once he realized Eren had known and put him there nonetheless. The image is enough to bring a shadow of a smile to Eren’s bruised lips. He’s craving one of Levi’s infamous lectures about cleanliness right now, the way he’d run the pad of his finger across whatever surface Eren was tasked to wipe down, only to find a speck of dust left. The way he’d turn around, slowly, to look at Eren, his features disinterested, but his eyes burning. The way he’d say “so this is what _clean_ means to you, Jeager” and how he’d only have to point his finger to make Eren do it all over again.

     Eren would have never thought he’d miss any of that, but he does, misses it so much now that Levi’s slipping in and out of consciousness and too weak to say anything at all. Gentle, as if he might break if Eren doesn’t watch out, he puts his Captain down on the bed. His eyes are still closed, but there’s a soft sigh passing his chapped lips. Eren can only hope the change out of the storm and off horseback to _this_ —even if _this_ a far cry from the infirmary Hanji runs back home—brings Levi at least a little relief, as well as the calm he needs to heal. As soon as Levi’s settled on top of the covers, Eren gets up to scour the little cabin for anything they might be able to use. There’s  not much, a few spare blankets, a threadbare pillow and a pitiful first aid kit. He grabs the first aid kit and sets it on the nightstand next to the bed. Even in pitiable condition, they are going to need all the supplies they can get their hands on to treat Levi’s wounds.

     That’s the easy part. The hard part comes now, when Eren has to save Levi’s life with what mediocre medical skills he has.

     He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath.

     Then another.

     He can do this. He has to. This is his Captain, _Levi,_ there’s no choice about it. There never has been.

     When he opens his eyes, his hands aren’t shaking as hard as they were a minute ago. He grabs his backpack and whatever medical supplies they stock in there, as well as everything he can find around the cabin. Then he goes to fetch a bucket of clean rain water from the front yard.

     When he’s back inside, he goes straight to Levi’s side and takes inventory of everything he has and everything he needs to do. He might have to improvise on the gauze pads, but at least he has plenty of bandages to wrap Levi’s chest in.

_Okay. Okay, Levi._

     Slowly, he unbuttons Levi’s shirt. The lapels are soaked through with blood, which makes them stick to Levi’s wounds. Eren leans in and carefully extracts the fabric from the mess of bloody cuts on Levi’s chest. He’s not even a minute in before Levi groans and twitches on the bed. Eren runs a soothing hand through Levi’s hair, whispering _‘hang in there, Captain’_ and _‘it’s gonna be okay’._ But it’s not enough. Just when Eren is done with the left side of Levi’s shirt, Levi jerks awake with a hiss.

     “Goddammit,” he groans. “This _hurts.”_

     Eren tries to keep the smile of relief at bay, and fails. He’s just so glad that Levi’s awake, that he’s _alive_ and talking, even if it’s just to complain.

     “I’m sorry, Captain,” Eren winces. “I just have to get you out of this shirt, but with all this blood, the fabric’s gotten—”

     “—stuck. I can see that. Or more like, _feel_ that.”

     Eren meets Levi’s eyes briefly, then nods. “I’m being as gentle as I can.”

     Levi closes his eyes. Then looks up at Eren. “Just rip it off. Get it over with.”

     Eren opens his mouth to protest, but Levi cuts him off with, “That’s an order.”

     Eren bites his lip. Even if hurting Levi more than he already has is the last thing he wants to do, he can’t refuse a direct order. So he doesn’t.

     “Ready?” he asks. He sure as hell isn’t, but that’s beside the point here. He’s just the executor.

     “Since yesterday.”

     Eren swallows and then rips and rips, ignoring Levi’s shout of pain and continuing until his chest is bare and the shirt is spread out on the bed beneath him.

     When he looks down at Levi, his eyes are squeezed shut and he’s biting his lip. Before he can stop himself, he brushes his thumb across Levi’s bottom lip and watches as it comes free from his teeth.

     “I wish I could tell you the worst part is over,” Eren says.

     Levi rolls his eyes. All Eren can do is smile, because it’s so like Levi, and if he’s acting like his usual self, he can’t be on the brink of death, right?

     “How sweet of you,” Levi deadpans. Eren’s smile grows wider.

     “I’ll clean your wounds now.”

     It seems to take forever, cleaning Levi, stitching a couple of the big cuts, wrapping him in thick bandages. It’s far from easy on both of them, but when it’s done, Eren’s about ready to pass out from exhaustion and Levi is in desperate need of all the rest he can get, even if he’d never admit to it.

     Thankfully, Levi has fallen into an uneasy sleep at this point, or maybe he’s slipped back into unconsciousness. Either way, Eren needs to get him out of these wet clothes. They are cold and stiff, and sticking to Levi’s skin by now. His boots go first. Eren’s fine with the boots, they are just boots. The pants however . . . Eren is _not_ fine with those. Really, in which universe is it okay for a subordinate to take off his superior’s _pants?_ If it had been anyone else, Eren would be perfectly capable of being all mature and professional about it. Maybe. But this isLevi, and Eren has been fiercely, hopelessly in love with him for—for how long even? Since he was nothing more than a kid, admiring Levi on horseback from afar? As long as he can remember, there’s only ever been Levi.

_For God’s sake, stop shaking. Do your duty._

     Eren squares his shoulders and puts on a straight face—or _tries_ to, because he’s undressing Levi and how much of a straight face can he keep in this situation, really—and unbuckles Levi’s belt. His fingers brush over the exposed skin of Levi’s stomach when he undoes the button on his pants, and he manages to stifle a moan, but _just_ so. He is trying not to stare at every inch of pale skin he uncovers as he slips the pants off each leg. He’s really, really trying, but god, he’s too weak not to and Levi is right there and Eren’s hands look so _good_ on his bare skin that he just—

 _No._ He has to get his head on straight. Now is not the time to ogle his Captain. Levi needs him.

     Eren clears his throat and skims the pants over Levi’s toes. Briefly, he wonders if he should get rid of Levi’s underwear too, seeing as it’s just as wet as the rest of their clothes, but decides against it. At least until Levi wakes up and he can ask permission. Eren takes the blankets and shakes them out. He’s sure they’re going to need all of them, now that night has fallen and snow is coming down harder. Eren heaves a sigh of relief when he discovers a fireplace hidden behind a stack of loose boards. It’s close to the bed, too, and from the view of it, in full working order. Small favors.

     Eren finds wood in the stables and about ten minutes later, there’s a fire warming their temporary shelter. Eren allows himself just a moment to bask in the fire’s warmth before he gets up to his feet and grabs one of the blankets to spread it out on the floor. That leaves three blankets for Levi. He hopes that’s enough to keep him warm. If it doesn’t, he’ll gladly give up the one he has.

     “What do you think you’re doing?” Levi asks.

     Even confined to a bed with blankets tucked all the way up to his chin, Levi manages to look imposing.

     Eren drops the pillow on his makeshift bed before he turns around. “Getting ready to sleep?”

     Levi snorts. Then he frees one hand from the heap of blankets Eren’s tucked him into and waves him over. Levi is waving him over, as if . . . no. Eren doesn’t even dare thinking along those lines. It’s just not possible, for Levi to imply they share one bed for the night—no, brain, _no._ But it’s too late, Eren’s mind is already spinning up all these scenarios about spending the night with Levi right next to him, sharing one mattress, one blanket. The bed is so tiny, too, they’d undoubtedly touch at some point and _god,_ there’s no chance in hell Eren is going to catch even a wink of sleep tonight if sleeping means being within a zero inch radius of Levi. The worst thing is that he _wants_ it that way. For all he knows, this might be all he’s ever going to have. What’s one sleepless night when he gets to have  _this_ in return?

     Eren comes to stand next to Levi’s bed, heart beating a mile a minute.

     “You can sleep here with me,” Levi says, avoiding Eren’s eyes in a way that seems almost deliberate. “There’s plenty of room for both of us.”

     Eren looks at Levi. Then he looks at the bed. There’s obviously _not_ plenty of room for both of them, and Eren’s pretty sure Levi knows that. So why is he suggesting it anyway? Is it because he wants to protect him? Wants to share what little comfort they have in here?

     Levi clears his throat softly. “And . . . I’m cold.”

     He doesn’t add anything else, but he doesn’t have to. Eren knows what he’s not saying.

     Body warmth.

     It’s one of those key lessons they learn in military training. Saving a life can be as easy as keeping someone warm with your own body sometimes. Especially when that someone is stranded and cold and hurt.

     Eren feels like he should say no, feels like it wouldn’t he appropriate to snuggle up to his Captain, no matter how badly he wants to. But he’s pictured having Levi in his arms so many times, so many times that he’s lost count. He’s always thought of it as a pipe dream, a construct of his hopes and desires to help him through this life. It seems . . . wrong, somehow, to make it a reality. Like Eren is not supposed to have this much.

     “Eren,” Levi whispers. “Come here.”

     And this, Levi’s quiet request, is what does it. Eren just _gives_. Just those words, it’s enough. He takes off his wet clothes and lies them down next to Levi’s in front of the fire. Then he scoops up his makeshift bed from the floor and slips into bed. With Levi. He’s enough of a gentleman to turn away from Levi; to make this as little awkward as possible. Or maybe it’s not his gentlemanly side that’s responsible for that, but his own instinct of self-preservation. He’s sharing a bed with Levi—a very, very _small_ bed—so preserving whatever self-control he has left at this point sounds like a pretty decent idea.

     It takes about half a second for Eren to realize he’s made a mistake. A huge mistake, because Levi is so close that Eren can _smell_ him, all fresh and earthy and gorgeous, with just a small trace of blood left that does nothing to diminish the overall gorgeous effect.

 _Damn_. What is he _doing_ here?

     There’s the fire crackling next to them (as well as Levi’s breathing, but he so won’t focus on that) so Eren tries to close his eyes and listen to the little sounds the flames make as they lick across wood. He needs to ground himself, to calm down. Preferably before he does something he can’t undo.

     “Eren.”

     “Hm?”

     “Relax.”

_Ha, sure. Right._

     Eren tries to relax. And fails. It’s just too much, Levi’s breath on his neck, his leg touching Eren’s _just_ so, the warmth he can feel on his skin, _Levi’s_ warmth. Relax? Yeah, that’s not gonna happen anytime soon.

     And as if he knows, Levi sighs. Then he moves closer and there are his strong, _strong_ arms—goodness, those arms—wrapping around Eren from behind, Levi’s chest against his back, skin on skin with nothing in between. For a second, Eren is sure he must have fallen asleep and this is just whatever sweet dream his mind is making up for his private enjoyment this time, but then Levi wedges a leg between both of Eren’s and his thigh brushes his crotch and it feels _so_ good—it’s got to be real.

     “L-Levi?” It’s nothing more than a whisper, but that’s okay. Eren doesn’t know how to produce anything more solid than that right now.

     Levi snuggles closer, his lips between Eren’s shoulder blades. “Let me?”

     Levi’s asking as if he means it, as if there’s anything in the world he could ask for that Eren wouldn’t give him. And Eren just lets himself fall, back into Levi’s arms, eyes closed. There’s nothing he could have done to deserve this, and yet he gets it anyway, his own personal piece of _perfect._

     “Is this okay?” Levi asks softly, lips brushing against Eren’s skin, which is still moist from the storm and cool to the touch.

     “Very okay,” Eren breathes. “But . . . I mean, you’re hurt and holding me like this must be painful for you, so I can . . . hold you instead?”

     He swallows. Is this asking too much?

     “Yes. Hold me,” Levi echoes, and now it’s him who’s whispering. Maybe this means _something._ Maybe it means as much to Levi as it does to Eren. It’s wishful thinking at best, but this night is apparently all about magic, so why not trust in make-believe while is lasts?

     Eren turns around before Levi can, so there’s this tiny little moment where they meet in the middle and look at each other. Eren has never been _this_ close to Levi before, so close that he can see his thick lashes grazing his cheekbones when he blinks, the delicate specks of blue in his gray eyes. Before he can talk himself out of it, he reaches up and runs the pad of his thumb across Levi’s bottom lip. Eren wishes he had enough nerve to replace his finger with his lips, because he wants to kiss Levi more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life.

     And Levi . . . knows. He must know, because all it takes is one look, and then he’s leaning in, what little space is left between them vanishing inch by inch, until there is none left.

     Eren’s pictured this moment for so long, ever since he’d seen Levi that first time, back in Shiganshina when he was still just a boy collecting firewood and getting hopelessly excited about every time the Survey Corps passed through the city after an expedition beyond the walls. It’s been years—years of imagining, dreaming, wishing. All that lead time should’ve given him more than enough time to prepare. Thing is, it didn’t, because nothing he could’ve ever dreamed up about kissing Levi, about the feeling of those perfect lips on his own compares to reality. And reality . . . it’s never been this sweet, this _real,_ because kissing Levi feels like the very definition of being alive. It’s warm and soft and so easy, as if it’s meant to be, as if it’s the universe’s one big _at last._   

     One kiss turns into two, then three, then dozens. Eren’s hands are in Levi’s hair, Levi’s scratching down Eren’s back. Eren rises up on all fours, caging Levi’s body in between his arms and legs. They break the kiss for a nanosecond, breathing heavy, lips glossy.

     “I . . . I’ve been dreaming about this,” Eren whispers, brushing his thumb across Levi’s cheekbone and the soft blush tinging his pale skin.

     “About kissing me? And here I thought your dreams were a little more exciting than that.” Levi smiles, then moans when Eren leans in to lick across his lips.

     “What’s more exciting than kissing you?” Eren breathes against Levi’s wet lips.

     “Well . . .”

     Levi moves beneath Eren—and maybe it’s by chance, or maybe it is not—but the hardness between his legs rubs against Eren’s own, and there’s a veritable firework going off inside his chest in response. Not that Eren’s ever seen a firework before, but he imagines that this is what it must be like, this explosion of sparks and colors you can’t look away from.

     Eren smirks down at Levi, his Captain, then moves in to kiss the corner of his mouth, whispering, “I mean, I guess there _are_ a couple more things I can think of . . . I don’t really have anything to compare, so maybe we should try and see?”

     Levi gasps when Eren’s lips leave a wet trail down to his shoulder, only to bite down on the curve of his collarbone.

     “Yeah,” Levi moans. “Trying sounds good. Really good.”

     There’s a wave of emotion crashing over Eren’s head, euphoria and disbelief and nerves. It’s so much that Eren almost stops. Because this is Levi, and Levi is everything. Everything Eren’s not supposed to have. But as previously established, Eren is weak when it comes to Levi, and just this once, he allows himself to be. Yes, he has resisted in the past. Barely. All those times where he’s been alone with Levi, where they stood too close and looked at each other too long, he has resisted. But he doesn’t want to resist anymore. Today is one of these cruel, painful reminders—everything is temporary. He could have lost Levi today. He could lose him tomorrow. So yes, maybe he is reckless for wanting it, selfish for taking it, but god, he’s sacrificed so much that he can’t give up on the only thing he’s ever truly wanted for himself. It might just be for one night, but it’s fine. It’s enough. If one night is all he’s ever going to have, he’ll make it last him a lifetime.

     Eren kisses his way down Levi’s body, lapping at his nipples until they’re pink and wet and hard, then down to his chiseled abs, tasting every dip and curve along the way. He’s licking into Levi’s belly button before he breaks away with a little kiss to the smooth skin below it and looks up to meet Levi’s eyes. He shivers when he lays eyes on his Captain, looking so beautiful, so _wrecked,_ with his lust-blown eyes and swollen lips and this pretty flush that’s spreading all the way down to his shoulders.

     Eren doesn’t break eye contact as he slips his palms beneath Levi’s boxer briefs, cupping Levi’s bare thighs, fingertips just shy of brushing his cock.

Because Eren’s in love with the look on Levi’s face, he bends his head down to where he can press his lips to the bulge straining against its cotton confines.

     “You know what I want, don’t you?” Eren asks. He doesn’t know where his sudden bout of self-confidence is coming from, but he’ll worry about it later. _Much_ later, when the sound of his voice, all husky,  isn’t making Levi tremble all over anymore.

     “Yes,” Levi all but moans. “And I want you to.”

     “You want me to what, Levi? Come on, say it. Order me to.”

     “Fuck. Eren, you . . . _You._ ”

     Eren presses his lips to the tip of Levi’s clothed cock and _blows_ on it, through the cotton, hot and moist _._ He wants to get to Levi, wants to break down his walls, strip him of his defenses. He wants him wide open, bare and touchable.

     “Say it, Captain. Tell me what you want. It’s yours.”

     Levi’s legs squeeze around Eren’s neck when he brushes his lips against his cock once more. It’s tight, too, so deliciously tight that Eren doesn’t know how he’s ever gonna leave his spot between Levi’s legs.

     “You want an order?” Levi asks. His fingers slip into Eren’s hair, holding on so tight that it’s just on the good side of too hard.  “Fine, I’ll give you an order. Take off my boxers. Touch me. Taste me. Make me come with that pretty mouth of yours.”

_God._

     And here Eren thought _he_ is the one in control—turns out he’s as much Levi’s subordinate in the bedroom as he is subordinate out on the field—and that’s such a huge fucking turn on that Eren’s cock throbs in a way that borders on painful. And even this—this delicate edging that’s too much and not enough at the same time—drives him wild. It’s gotta be Levi, Levi and every little thing he does, every little thing he says. Eren is so attuned to his words, his orders, that following them feels like second nature. And he wants to follow them right now, wants it more than he wants his next breath.

     He feels Levi’s gaze on him as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pulls them down across the exquisite bow of his legs and the milky white of his skin. Levi’s cock falls into line with the rest of him—all gorgeous, all Eren’s—smooth and utterly irresistible to the touch. Pearly drops of precome are beading at the tip. Eren is helpless, absolutely helpless, not to have a taste. His eyes flutter closed as he runs his tongue across Levi’s crown, scooping the droplets up with his tongue and swallowing them down as if he’s starving. And he is, isn’t he? Starving for Levi, for years _._ It’s hard to believe he’s here, where he’s getting to taste Levi like this, but he is, and he won’t stop until Levi’s spilling every last drop down his throat, until he’s shivering and shaking and coming dry.

     What’s almost better than Levi’s taste are the noises he makes while Eren goes down on him—the little sighs and quiet moans, the low hisses and whispers of _“Eren”._

     His hands are fisted in Eren’s hair, and Eren feels how much he’s trying to hold back, feels it in the grip on his strands, his fingertips moving over his scalp. Just for a moment, Eren wishes he wouldn’t, wishes he’d just take.

     “Eren. Ah, shit.”

     Eren takes as much of Levi in as he can. He’s not exactly experienced in that sort of thing, which makes it a miracle that Levi seems to enjoy it as much as he is. Those sounds he makes and the way he moves his hips and drives his cock deeper into Eren’s mouth is unmistakable. He’s _so_ into this.

     Eren swirls his tongue around the head as he wraps his hand around the part of Levi’s cock he can’t fit into his mouth, pumping him in tandem with the slow drags across his glans. He looks up at Levi— _come get me, come on—_ and Levi takes the invitation for what it is. He digs his hands into the sheets and fucks into Eren’s mouth, over and over and _over,_ until there are tears in Eren’s eyes and saliva dripping down his chin.

     “I’m close,” Levi says from between clenched teeth. “Touch yourself for me, Eren. Show me how you like it.”

     Eren gets up to his knees, shoving his boxers down to mid-thigh with one hand and fists his cock. It’s just a simple touch, and yet he feels like gushing all over his hand—and Levi’s perfect abs, and wow, what a view _that_ would be.

     “Fuck, yes. You’re doing so good, Eren, _so good._ I’m almost . . .” a hoarse moan, “almost . . .” then a sweet, little sigh, “ _fuck.”_

     When he comes, it’s with a sound unlike anything Eren’s ever heard before, almost a whine, which is something he never thought he’d hear, not from Levi. It’s delicate and broken and incredibly sensual, and Eren feels that Levi’s trying to push him off in time, but Eren doesn’t want to let go. He wants to have everything Levi can give, wants to have the taste of him on his lips, his tongue, long after this is over. But the thing is, Levi can give _a lot,_ so despite all of Eren’s determination not to spill anything, he’s forced to pull off before Levi’s cock finishes pulsing in his mouth. It would’ve been a shame, if it weren’t for one, two, three drops hitting his lips, nose, his eyelashes. And yeah, maybe it’s embarrassing as all get-out, but it’s the feeling of Levi’s come on his skin—just the feeling of it—that triggers Eren’s own orgasm. It starts with tingling in his toes and goosebumps on his neck, then shoots down his spine and and through his belly. His balls draw up tight, and then he’s coming, so intense that his vision whites out and he can barely hold himself upright. There’s moaning, too, and it’s so loud that he should feel bad for being such a goddamn amateur, but he can’t bring himself to. Not when Levi’s looking up at him with glossy eyes and even glossier lips, with a smile like _that_ and hands that are reaching up to cup Eren’s face.

     “Based on your expression right now, I’d say _that_ has helped with the relaxing part?” Levi says, smiling wider. Wow, that smile. Eren doesn’t know what tonight is or what it means, but what he does know is that Levi doesn’t smile like this. Or that he didn’t use to, not up until now, and doesn’t that mean enough?

     Eren smiles a smile of his own, only that his is all teeth, and lies down next to Levi, close enough for his lips to settle on his cheekbone. “And I’d say I had no idea that I was even capable of something like relaxing, but here we are.”

     Levi keeps smiling his beautiful smile, and then he reaches over and strokes Eren’s cheek with his fingertips. They stay like this for a long time. Eren doesn’t even dare to breathe, because making a move could mean whatever spell they are under is broken, lost, and . . . and Levi looking at him like he’s looking at him right now is, too.

     “I don’t want this night to end,” Eren whispers. He’s crazy for saying it out loud, but what is he supposed to do when every last fiber of his body is screaming at him to do something, anything, to make this last?

     It’s quiet when Levi asks, “Why?”

     Eren looks at him, still smiling. He’s smiling even when he feels like crying, because he’s scared he’s one second away from losing this—Levi in his arms, basking in the afterglow, Levi looking at him like all he wants to do is kiss him senseless.

     Eren feels like he ought to think about his reply, but he finds that he doesn’t need to. It comes . . . easy. Natural.

     “Because I fell in love with you when I was ten, and I . . . I never stopped.”

     If the confession comes as a surprise to Levi, Eren can only tell by his eyes, which seem a little wet now that he knows how Eren feels about him. But if he’s honest, it could be just his imagination. Levi’s always been so hard to read.

     “So, tonight didn’t change anything?” Levi asks after a few moments of silence. “You’re still . . . falling in love with me?”

     Eren smiles, _really_ smiles, like he did back when he was a kid and his parents were still alive and everything was right in the world. Because even when none of it is true any longer, he feels as if it is. Levi makes him feel as if it is.

     “No, I’m not still falling,” Eren breathes. “I’m already there.”

     And then he pulls Levi against his chest and kisses him, with everything he has, everything he feels. When they break apart a long while later, there are tears in Levi’s beautiful eyes.

     “I love you, Eren. So much.”

     A puff of air passes from Levi’s lips to Eren’s, warm and heavy with the meaning of Levi’s words, and Eren knows that this is _it_. This is what he’s been waiting for, what he’s always been hoping to find in every single one of Levi’s looks, every single one of his touches.

     He’s crying, too, when he says, “I love you, Levi. It’s always been you.”

     They are lying there wrapped in each other, hands splayed on bare skin, legs tangled together. It’s a long time before Eren falls asleep, and when he does, it’s with his head on Levi’s chest, listening to the beat of his heart and relishing his breath in his hair.

     Tomorrow will come eventually, and with it, dangers and risks and compromises. Days lost to fighting a war that may very well outlast their lives. But that’s tomorrow. Today is Levi and this bed and feeling love like it’s meant to be felt. It’s been years of waiting, of wishing, of dreaming. And today, none of them matters anymore, because today, he is Levi’s and Levi is his. Today, they have found each other.

     They are there.   

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are loved. ❤


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